


1-800-I-LIKE-YOU

by CamillaEmily



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Friends (TV) Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, M/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamillaEmily/pseuds/CamillaEmily
Summary: The bottom of a bottle is where you can find Connor's dignity, that, and his loneliness, sadness and broken heart.





	1-800-I-LIKE-YOU

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on Season 2 Episode 7 of Friends.

Connor and Chris' apartment was situated on the outskirts of the university housing area meaning most of their friends didn't live around them. However, their apartment was the largest, with a huge open-plan of a connecting kitchen, dining room and living room that could fit everybody in very comfortably. 

 

For this reason, this afternoon, Nabulungi, who lived three blocks away with her roommate Kevin and boyfriend Arnold, was curled up in their large cushioned seat by the window, flicking through a magazine, when Connor came home. He greeted her offhandedly and she waved in reply as he dropped his keys in the bowl and made a beeline to flop on the couch. Nabulungi watched out the corner of her eye as he grabbed a pillow and shoved his face in it, a muffled scream absorbed into the soft cushion. She sighed, sensing a problem she had to deal with, and set her magazine down on her lap, tilting her head to the red headed boy.

"What's up?" 

Connor sat up and lowered his pillow, "I saw Kevin today."

She murmured in realisation, shaking her magazine as she picked up again, sighing deeper, "What was he wearing today?"

With that Connor launched into a detailed discussion on the baseball tee Kevin wore today that accentuated his arms and chest so nicely and how he had left his hair more curly than he would usually as if he had run his hands through it all day which made Connor think about what Kevin's fingers would feel like in his hair, on his face, on his chest trailing further down- 

"WOAH! Keep it PG." Nabulungi cut him off with a sharp point of her finger and a playful glare.

Connor sighed, falling back onto the couch, "Sorry, I just can't get him out of my mind he's just so-" 

"Who's just so?" 

The door clicked close as Arnold entered the apartment, skipping over to give Nabulungi a quick kiss before retreating back to the kitchen to dig around the fridge. Connor placed the pillow back in its position, leaning back as an attempt to look nonchalance and Nabulungi spared him a glance; his body said casual small talk but his eyes said HELP ME. 

"Chris. He's been impulse buying Poptarts again." Nabulungi said, stretching her neck as to face Arnold, Connor slumping into the sofa in relief. 

It wasn't that Connor didn't like Arnold - quite the opposite actually. Arnold was one of his best friends and with any other information he would instantly share with him; it's just that Arnold shares with Kevin more. And so as much as Connor wanted to include his friend, he couldn't risk Kevin finding out about his crush. 

Arnold laughed, oblivious to the conversation of eye contact between his girlfriend and his friend on the other side of the fridge door. He poked up, resisting his chin on the door, "Did he get S'more?" 

"Top left cabinet." 

Arnold muttered a small "Yesss," And moved around the kitchen to pluck out the box, removing his favourite flavoured pastries from the foil packet and clamped them into the toaster. Connor's stomach began to growl as the smell of toasting chocolate and marshmallow wafted through the apartment. He tipped his head over the back of the couch. 

"Is there any Apple Strudel ones left?" 

"Umm," Arnold dug around the cabinet, sifting through various boxes, plucking one hidden in the back and opening in it, "Yeah there's one packet left." 

Nabulungi's eyebrows flew to her hairline, "Really? Kevin practically devours a box of those a day." 

"There's at least one a packet left," Connor shrugged, touched that Kevin actually thinks about him, but probably only because he mentioned it once. He would do the same for a friend. 

Arnold walked over with a plate in hand, "Yeah but that's because he leaves it for you because he's in love with you." 

Arnold froze. Nabulungi's eyes widened. Connor stopped breathing.

"What?" Connor squeaked. He was stuck, his whole world spun. 

Arnold stumbled on everything, his plate clashing against the coffee table, his body falling raggedly in the armchair, his words jumbled and rapid, "I, I mean, he WAS in love with you hahaha, but not anymore!" 

Nabulungi promptly smacked herself with her magazine. 

"What?" Connor squeaked again. From where the world had sat for a moment so high, had plummeted, burning. 

The door swung open and Chris emerged, obliviously smiling brightly, "Hey guys, what's happening?"  

Chris frowned as he immediately sensed the tension between the three; Connor staring at the coffee table on the verge of tears, Arnold with his head in his hands looking aghast, and Nabulungi switching her glare from ruthless as Arnold and sympathetic at Connor. He crossed his arms, "Alright, what the fuck?"

Nabulungi stood up, grabbing Arnold by the arm and dragged him towards the door, "We're gonna go. I think there's been too much damage as is." 

There was a muffled moan of "But my Poptart!" From behind the closed door when Chris turned to Connor, approaching him to place a hand on his shoulder, "Hey buddy? You alright? What happened?" 

Connor stood, swaying a little, tears welling in his eyes and brushed past Chris to sit at the kitchen table. He spoke distantly, attempting to piece together his thoughts and feelings into coherent sequences he could figure out, "Kevin liked me." 

Chris waited a moment, "...But? " 

"But he's moved on," 

"Oh, Connor," Chris' voice was soft with empathy. And Connor hated it. 

Connor stared at his hands, the freckles peppered across his pale skin glaring back at him in the dim light of twilight from the window above the sink, "Fuck it." 

He stood up and walked to the cupboard where Chris skid over to block his path, knowing exactly what he was looking for. He spoke gently, arms spread to block him, the plate of Poptarts hovering dangerously above his head, "Connor, this isn't the answer, this isn't you." 

"Get out the way Chris."

Connor looked up at him, red-rimmed blue eyes glaring into him making his chest hurt with the love he had for his friend. Chris sighed deeply, giving him a last disappointing look before sidestepping out of his way, "Just don't drink too much." 

Connor opened the cabinet and took out the bottle of alcohol setting it on the table, not bothering to grab any glasses. Chris walked back over and grabbed his shoulder, giving him a small smile, "Goodnight, buddy." 

"Goodnight Chris." He muttered back, unscrewing the bottle and, when Chris' bedroom door had closed behind him, took a hearty swig. The liquid burned down his throat but nothing hurt more than the pinpricks of tears in his eyes and the jagged shards of his heart that pierced his chest. 

Six swigs of the flaming liquid later, Connor was barely conscious, his head laid on the table, bottle clutched in his hand and puddle on his tears acting as his pillow. An abrupt snore from Chris' room made him lift his head, and he struggled for a moment to focus on anything as his vision swam. It finally settled and cleared, hyper focusing on the landline telephone next to the door, backlit vaguely-green screen glowing in the dim room.

An idea struck him. 

A terrible, awful, absolutely regrettable idea. 

Connor grabbed the phone. 

"H, Hey Keverino hahahaha. I just wanna say that I. Am. Over. You. Okay? I'M OVER YOU! YOU CAN'T MOVE ON BECAUSE I, I, I MOVED ON FIRST! HA HA! SO, SO FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID HAIR!" 

He slammed down the phone and collapsed on the sofa.  

* * *

"Morning Con!" 

 

Kevin burst into Connor's apartment the next morning, smiling warmly, just the brightness of his grin causing Connor's headache to worsen. He groaned into his hands, focusing on the shadows the glass of water and tub of painkillers as to calm his mind. He heard Kevin laugh heartily, the squeak of the fridge and the rummaging of containers before Kevin's face popped back out of the fridge holding an apple. 

"Don't smile so loud." Connor moaned, massaging his temples. He felt Kevin slide in across from him, the sharp crunch of an apple reverberating in his ears. 

"Rough night?" Kevin asked, amused words forming around his bite of food.

"The worst," He grumbled and Kevin laughed. Connor scrunched up his face at a harsh shoot of pain pulsing through his brain, "I don't even remember most of it." 

Kevin laughed again, muffled as his mouth formed around his apple. Connor further his point with collapsing onto the table into a mess of his arms, before lifting his head to rest his chin on his forearms. Kevin was staring back at him, leaning back casually with his arm over the back of the chair at the small table in the connecting kitchen, shiny red apple poised into his hand, warm brown eyes shining with laughter and extreme bed head crowning his face. Connor ignored the rough beating in his chest and frowned, eyes narrowing in innocent confusion. 

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Kevin asked, hand raising to pat down his hair self-consciously. 

"I think I dreamt about you last night." A smile twitched at Kevin's mouth. 

"Really?" 

Connor winced as the last pulse of his headache gradually fading, "I'm not sure," He tilted his head, blurry memories slowly revealing themselves, "Did we speak on the phone?" 

Kevin shook his head, placing his apple on the table, "Uh no, no I don't think so... Oh! But speaking of which I didn't check my messages, do you mind if I...? 

Connor pushed himself up, chair squeaking against the floor, deciding that if he was going to continue getting waves of nausea, he would rather throw up in the bathroom than in the kitchen, and so made his way towards its door, "Yeah, yeah sure." 

Just as Connor had reached the door, Kevin had the phone held against his ear, plugging in the number and announced, "Connor! I got a message from you?" 

Connor's spun around. His sub-conscious realised before him, a sticky cold sliver of panic shivered down his body, eyes widening, breath escalating until cohesive thoughts in the form of painfully sudden sharp memories of a forbidden conversation struck all at once. His feet moved on their own, hand outstretched as he lunged at Kevin, words hysterical and they tumbled from a slack mouth, "Oh my god, Kevin, oh my god. Give me the phone! Give me-GIVE ME THE PHONE, KEVIN." 

He jumped on top of him, Kevin falling to the ground but still clutching the phone to his head and Connor straddled his hips to hold him down before ripping the phone from his grip and flinging it across the room. Kevin stared up at him, eyes blown, body lax, lips parted, voice weak, "You're over me?" 

"Oh god, oh my god," Connor covered his face with his hands, tears threatening to spill and the panic and humiliation rose into his chest to suffocate him. He sat back on Kevin's thighs before suddenly realising where he was sat and sprung off of him to sprint and hide behind the sofa, head buried the couch pillow. 

Kevin slowly sat up, eyes still huge and blinking as his thoughts were aflame, internal screaming filling his mind as the words stuck to the forefront of everything, "You're- You're over me? Wha- When, when were you... under me?" 

Connor grabbed a throw pillow and began to smack himself with it, repeating blasphemies like a prayer, "Jesus, oh my god," 

"Connor do you, did you, are you...?" Kevin pushed himself up, approaching the couch, heart in his throat. 

"Okay, okay, look," Taking a deep, shaky and shallow breath, Connor straightened up, a surge of courage coming from his frustration of always feeling so helpless about his crush, but also because of the suffocating pressure of the solitary option being to face his problems head on, "I've sort of had feelings for you." 

"You've had feelings for me?" Kevin repeated meekly. The clusterfuck of emotions and the desperate ability to try to keep from crying cause a swell of what he knew was fake irritation, and more a protection against his own hot-faced embarrassment.

"Yeah well, you had feelings for me first!" Connor stood up, still holding the pillow to fiddle with the frilled edges, unable to meet his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Kevin's arm rising to rub the back of his neck. 

"You, er, you knew about that?" Kevin asked, eyes cast on the ground, "How?" 

"Arnold told me." 

"Oh." 

Connor's voice quietened as he fiddled with his fingers, "He told me you had moved on." 

"Oh." 

"So I got a bit drunk." 

"Oh." Kevin's eyes were glazed, his expression dream like as he was staring at nothing, body frozen in one position. 

"...Kevin?" 

"I think I need to sit down," Kevin suddenly announced, and the protectiveness in Connor overwhelmed every other emotion, the care for his friends always his primary priority, as he walked around the couch to hesitantly touch Kevin's arm to support him to the couch. Kevin leant against the sofa, but he immediately changed his mind and took the position to stand up instead, his legs feeling as restless as his thoughts as he started to pace the room.

He stopped. 

Connor stared at him. 

Kevin spun around. 

"So you like me?" He asked and Connor was slightly surprised by his firm tone. Connor could only nod. Kevin stepped towards him, an arm's length away from him, his taller height meaning he loomed over him. Everything Connor could see, hear and think was Kevin, "No. Say it." 

Connor opened his mouth, bottom lips bobbing for a moment as he summoned the courage to spill the feelings he had so expertly kept down to the point where he didn't know if they could come out. He raised his eyes to meet Kevins, the expression unreadable as his dark eyes searched his face, and suddenly the words were rolling off his tongue, "I like you." 

"Then," Kevin leant in further, nose sliding against Connors until their lips were a breath apart, his voice lowered to a small whisper, "Can I kiss you?" 

Connor grabbed the front of his shirt in answer, tugging his teasing mouth into his, tilting his head into his, parting his lips a little to get a small taste of him. Kevin's hand came to his cheek, holding his head into an angle to tip his mouth into him, the other arms bending around his hips for his hand to settle into the small of his back. A smile rose on Connor's mouth as he took as further step forwards to curve into Kevin's body, flinging his arms around his neck to pull his closer. Kevin licked against Connor's curled mouth, a small whimper escaping his lips, and Kevin moaned a little as Connor's finger threaded roughly into his hair. 

Connor pulled away, unsuccessfully as Kevin's lips followed his movement backwards as to dip him, twisting Connor's torso into him and addicted to the flavour of Connor's mouth. With a muffled laugh and a gentle push on Kevin's face, they separated, identical smiles gracing both their faces, a peek of teeth no longer blinding Connor but filling him with warmth. 

"I don't think I could ever move on from you." Kevin murmured, smooshing his nose against his. Connor threw his head back in a melodic laugh and Kevin grinned, softly kissing his throat,

"But do you really think my hair's stupid?!" 


End file.
